A Soldiers Poem

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS,HE LIVED ALL ALONE,IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OFPLASTER AND STONE. I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEYWITH PRESENTS TO GIVE,AND TO SEE JUST WHOIN THIS HOME DID LIVE. I LOOKED ALL ABOUT,A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE,NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS,NOT EVEN A TREE. NO STOCKING BY MANTLE,JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND,ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURESOF FAR DISTANT LANDS. WITH MEDALS AND BADGES,AWARDS OF ALL KINDS,A SOBER THOUGHTCAME THROUGH MY MIND. FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT,IT WAS DARK AND DREARY,I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER,ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY. THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING,SILENT, ALONE,CURLED UP ON THE FLOORIN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME. THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE,THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER,NOT HOW I PICTUREDA UNITED STATES SOLDIER. WAS THIS THE HEROOF WHOM I'D JUST READ?CURLED UP ON A PONCHO,THE FLOOR FOR A BED? I REALIZED THE FAMILIESTHAT I SAW THIS NIGHT,OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERSWHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT. SOON ROUND THE WORLD,THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY,AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATEA BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY. THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOMEACH MONTH OF THE YEAR,BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS,LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE. I COULDN'T HELP WONDERHOW MANY LAY ALONE,ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVEIN A LAND FAR FROM HOME. THE VERY THOUGHTBROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE,I DROPPED TO MY KNEESAND STARTED TO CRY. THE SOLDIER AWAKENEDAND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE,"SANTA DON'T CRY,THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE; I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM,I DON'T ASK FOR MORE,MY LIFE IS MY GOD,MY COUNTRY, MY CORPS." THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVERAND DRIFTED TO SLEEP,I COULDN'T CONTROL IT,I CONTINUED TO WEEP. I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS,SO SILENT AND STILLAND WE BOTH SHIVEREDFROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL. I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVEON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT,THIS GUARDIAN OF HONORSO WILLING TO FIGHT. THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER,WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE,WHISPERED, "CARRY ON SANTA,IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL IS SECURE." ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH,AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT."MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND,AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT."

Jan Bagwell